Incandescent
by Mister Sorrel
Summary: TorchwoodDoctor WhoTwilight crossover. This was a challenge from a friend, but I wanted to make it into a full blown story. "Oh god, why did it have to bite you?" No knowledge of Twilight is needed. Rose10 BxE RxEm AxJ and either Jack/Gwen or Jack/Ianto.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who, Torchwood, or Twilight.**

**A/N: This is a challenge from the lovely Gingey on the fantastic Warrior's Wish. The challenge was a three way crossover, it had to include shippings, it had to have the main characters and the main villans, and it had to have something with great importance related to the word 'Incandescent'.**

I saw a flash of white light before my eyes, to quick to distinguish what it was. I frowned and glanced around my room, but it was too dark to make out anything. Beside me, the clock on my nightstand read 2:00. I groaned and laid my head back on my pillow. I hadn't gotten much sleep in the past week, and I was hallucinating as a result. Bloody perfect. No, bloody fantastic. Long live the memories of my Doctor. In three hours I would be up in the shower, getting ready for my job at Torchwood. How I ended up working for the place that condemned me to hell, I'd never know.

There was another white flash, and I closed my eyes. I tried my best to convince myself I wasn't losing my sanity (wasn't hallucinating a sign…?). There was heavy breathing by my ear, but no other sound in my room besides my racing heart. I slowly looked to my right to see the source of the chilling sound, but there was nothing there. A shiver ran down my spine as I turned back, eyes closed. Not only was I hallucinating, but I was imagining things too.

I shoved off my comforter and got up. A little too quickly, apparently, because I was notoriously dizzy. I stood still for a moment, my hand on my forehead. A couple of seconds passed, and I realized that it wasn't going to go away. I shook my head once, and made my way to the bathroom. A shower was all I needed to get me back to my senses.

The door creaked when I opened it. I flinched at the sudden brightness of the lights as I flipped the light switch. Without looking in the mirror (I knew I looked appalling, it was two in the morning after all), I turned on the shower. I quickly undressed out of my pajamas and into the cold shower. Cold showers always do the trick.

About half an hour later I turned off the water. I got out, suppressing a shiver in the suddenly freezing air. After 30 minutes under ice-cold water, you'd think you wouldn't have to deal with the after-shower air. But it was as cold as ever. I toweled myself dry, and glanced at my reflection as I walked out of the room. Something wasn't right. I backtracked my steps to the bathroom and gasped when I caught sight into the mirror.

My skin was ghostly pale, almost white. When I went to bed just four hours ago, I was as tan as ever. My eyes, usually honey-colored, were black. Black, was that a normal color for eyes? I shakily raised a hand to my cheek. Was this really me? I couldn't be the owner of this ivory reflection. I gasped as my skin touched; I was stone cold.

And then I woke up.

It was just a dream, I thought relieved. But the relief turnedto horror as quickly as it came. There was cold breathing on my neck, and hands gripping my wrist. Someone was pinning me down. Slowly I opened my eyes, fearful for what I might discover once they were fully opened. A man, with ashen skin just like from my dream, was on top of me, his head down by my neck. Terror and rage coursed through my veins.

He seemed to sense my awakening.

"Good morning, gorgeous," He whispered menacingly into my ear. His voice was velvet.

"Who the hell are you?" I silently cursed my voice for being so shaky when I desperately needed it to stay strong.

He didn't answer, but I felt his mouth on my neck. I shuddered in disgust and fury.

"Get offa me!" I yelled, hoping against hope that someone would hear and help me. How I regretted moving out of Pete and Jackie's mansion.

"Why would I do that?" He asked and scraped his teeth across my neck. I shuddered again. "Mmm, I haven't eaten in so long. And you smell so very delicious."

Suddenly, he had something cold and flat in his hands. In a lightning quick movement, his hand, with the object, was up by my neck and his head was backed away. I realized with sudden horrification that it was a knife.

Rose Tyler had been to the end of the world, stopped an invasion on Downing Street, almost got sucked into a black hole, and beaten the daleks _and_ cybermen, and she was going to get killed in her flat by a psycho rapist. How typical.

"Mmm," He said again, breathing in deeply. Trembling, I looked up at his face. I was determined not to let him know how petrified I really was.

Oh god, it was bad enough getting raped, but why did he have to be so gorgeous? His face was ashen like the rest of his body, and his reddish-brown hair was swept aside in an effortless but beautiful way. His eyes were black and menacing, and full of hunger. He had deep, purple bags under his eyes, and his marble lips were curved upward into a twisted grin.

"Enjoying the view?" His voice was silky and seducing, the kind you hear about in romance novels. I whimpered softly, he heard and chuckled softly. "The great Rose Tyler, Defender of Earth, at my mercy. Imagine that. What, do you think, would that scum Doctor say?"

If I wasn't already pissed before, I was now. Rage coursed through my veins. How dare he talk about the Doctor so lowly? Everything I'd learned from high school to my time on the TARDIS to Torchwood about self-defense raced through my mind, but I couldn't remember any of it. It was there, but then again it wasn't, truth but no logic. I was the daughter of Jackie Tyler, though, and I raised my hand to give him the famous Tyler slap. But before I could so much as twitch my wrist, his hand, with the knife, was holding it down.

"Don't try to get away," He said calmly, but threatening, "Because you won't."

"Get the bloody hell out of here." I spat.

"Ooh, did I make the big Bad Wolf angry?" The man asked, amused, "You know what, I like you. You're fun to aggravate."

I flipped him off.

He chuckled again, "Like I said before, so much fun. I'm gonna let you live." In another lightning quick movement, his hand was at my neck again.

"I thought you were going to let me live,"

"Oh, don't worry, I will," I tried to move my hand again, but he shot my a deadly glare, "I will if you don't resist."

The knife penetrated my skin lightly, but it quickly came out again. I gasped at the pain. He breathed in,

"You know, I didn't have to use your neck. But it's so… traditional." He leaned into my neck, and I suddenly felt a new wound form. And it burned like hell. Tears clouded my eyes and I cried out in pain, and he watched me, entertained. I never was one for killing, but at that moment I wanted nothing more than to see him dead. And then, I realized, utterly horrified, that this man -thing- was sucking my blood.

And then everything went black.


	2. Chapter One

**Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who, Torchwood or Twilight.**

"Owen! What did I tell you about-" My voice broke off as Ianto swerved the SUV to the right, "Lovely driving, Yan." Beside me, Ianto smirked.

"What?" Owen's voice came through my headset, and I could faintly hear Gwen cursing in the background.

The Hoix we were chasing jumped out in front of us, causing Ianto to spin out again. It hissed at us and jumped off into a different direction, and Ianto frowned and spun the steering wheel again. "Eh, never mind." I answered into my own headset, and then switched receivers,

"Tosh?"

"Yes Jack?"

I smiled when I heard her prepared voice; she seemed to always be at ready.

"Do you have a visual on the Hoix?" I asked after the Hoix jumped off somewhere new.

"The what?" She sounded confused, which was saying a lot for a computer genius like her. Usually she knew all the alien's names.

"The alien we've been chasing for the last few hours, it's called a Hoix." I sighed in exasperation. But it wasn't their fault that they were born in the 20th century and barely had any knowledge at all about this kind of thing. Lucky they had an immortal from the 51st century to be their leader.

"Oh, right." Tosh replied, and then, "Well, how am I supposed to know its name?"

"Uh, you weren't until now. Paradoxes and all."

I could almost see her rolling her eyes.

"Well, do you have a visual?"

"Uhh, yeah. It's taking a right to the east, and now it's heading towards the city."

I cursed underneath my breath as Ianto sighed and spun the SUV around to the opposite way. It was easy chasing aliens out here in the country, but once it got to the city it was just horrible. The city can't know about the aliens, so we have to make them forget with retcon. And running around the city, passing around retcon, is not my idea of a fun Saturday night. And I know it's not Owen's either, and in about 45 seconds he would be calling me through the headset, complaining about how he had plans to go to one bar or another.

But instead of Owen's voice, it was Tosh's,

"Jack, there's something coming through the, well, I think it's the rift."

Great. An alien in the city _and _something through the rift, the surprises never cease. What's next, Daleks in Manhattan?

Apparently, Ianto heard about the rift because he was frowning and kept glancing my way. It was a little frightening; Ianto wasn't the best driver as it was.

"Okay, where is it?"

"It's coming through at 45th street, right behind the warehouse."

"Right." I switched receivers again, "Owen, can you and Gwen handle the Hoix?"

"What the bloody hell is a Hoix?" Ah, classic Owen.

"The alien we're chasing." I tried my best to stay calm.

"How the hell am I supposed to know its bleedin' name?"

"Can you handle it or not?"

"'Course we can. Why?"

"Good," I hung up. If Gwen was with Owen, then I was at least a little confident that they would be able to handle it.

"The rift, sir?" Ianto asked.

I turned to look at our tea boy. His eyes were on the road again, thank God, and he looked very professional in his black suit behind the wheel of the huge SUV.

"Um, yeah. You heard where, right?"

"54th street?"

"Close, 45th. Right behind the warehouse."

"Right."

In about five minutes we were in the city again, thanks to Ianto's speeding, (we're Torchwood: Beyond the Police, didn't that count for speeding?) and then another two minutes and we were on 45th street, right in front of Maxey's Warehouse.

"This alright?" He asked as he pulled into a parking spot.

"Perfect." I grinned at him, and we both got out.

Guns at ready, we slowly inched around the warehouse in time to see a bright flash of light, and a girl stumble out of it. I frowned; girls stumbling out of bright rift lights is never good. She had her back facing us, and her clothes were dirty and had soot all over them. Her blonde hair was equally dirty, and pulled back into a messy ponytail. Overall she looked as though she were from the early 21st century, about year 2008. Which was very odd. The rift didn't just spit someone out from the same year; it was either from the future or the past.

Ianto cleared his throat, "Excuse me, Miss?" Even though she looked as if she couldn't even lift up a gun, he still held his gun ready. Ever since the affair with Mary, we've learned not to judge by looks. Well, they learned. I've known since I'd met the Doctor, so many years ago.

Slowly, the girl turned around, and my breath hitched.

Her skin was ghostly pale, almost white, and she had dark circles under her eyes like she hadn't had sleep in ages. And she was unnaturally skinny like she'd been starved. But she was gorgeous, all the same. I remembered her being beautiful, of course, but now she looked… angelic. Unearthly stunning. And I almost didn't recognize her,

"R-Rose?"

Her honey – were her eyes always that light? - colored eyes met mine, full of disbelief. What had happened to her?

"J-Jack?" Rose's voice cracked from lack of use.

"Yes, honey, it's me." I walked slowly towards her. Was it really Rose? The last time I'd seen her, we were at the Game Station, about to go to war against the Daleks. The Doctor had said that she was trapped in a parallel world… but she came through the rift. If she had come through the parallel world, she would've come through the void.

"No," she whimpered, and backed against the wall, "No, you're not. You're dead. You're a hallucination."

"Rose, it's really me," I took a step closer, and I knew Ianto was watching me, puzzled. "I'm not dead, I survived."

"Don't. Please, stop," She begged desperately and closed her eyes tightly, "Not again."

Rose looked so vulnerable and innocent right then, and my heart broke for her. I inched a little closer and she clenched her fists firmly.

"No, Rose, you're not hallucinating. It's me, I'm real," I placed my hand tenderly on her cheek, when I noticed something. A scar on her neck. And suddenly everything about her appearance made sense, her ashen skin, the dark circles, and the angelic beauty. A vampire had bitten Rose, and of course she had become one.

"Oh god. Why did it have to bite you?" I moved my hand down to the scar, and her eyes shot open. They were pitch black.


	3. Chapter Two

**Disclaimer: Twilight, Doctor Who, and Torchwood do not belong to me. **

**Author's Note: This is NOT going to be one of my dis-continued stories. I swear it won't be! Anyway, this is a longer chapter, and I'm not to sure about it. If you have any suggestions, please tell me! The Cullens and Bella in next chapter, by the way!**

"You're r-real," Rose gasped. Her black eyes searched mine desperately, as if she were looking for proof. "But how could you be real? I heard you die," She furrowed her brows in confusion, "You're dead. The Doctor said you were dead." I licked my suddenly dry lips, and smiled.

"According to my records, you're dead too. But we both know that can't be true." Or could it? She was a vampire, weren't they the living dead? I don't know much about them; I only know what my friend, who happened to be a vampire, told me years ago. But what he told me wasn't very good. I moved my hand up her neck to her cheek again, and she closed her eyes tightly. And then she fainted.

"Sir?" Ianto asked from behind me as I held Rose up. I cursed as I remembered him still here.

"Uh, can you help me get her back to the car?"

"Of course, Sir."

He walked over to me and supported her left side while I did the same to her right. Slowly, we made it back to the SUV and strapped her into the front seat. I got into the driver's side before Ianto could, so he had to resort to the back seats. I smirked when I remembered how much he detested the back seat.

"Who is she?"Ianto asked once we were on the road.

"She is Rose Tyler."

I saw him frown in puzzlement through the rearview mirror,

"Sir, Rose Tyler is dead. She died in the battle of Canary Wharf."

"Yeah, you would think that wouldn't you?"

"I don't understand."

"The records say she is departed, but she's not." Or is she?

"I understand that. But why?"

"I'm sure once she wakes up she'll tell us."

"Is she a friend?" I sensed a little hesitation, "A lover, perhaps?"

"If only," I smiled faintly, remembering the Doctor's death glare if I so much as flirted with her. I wonder would he would say if I actually… never mind, I don't want to think about it. Mostly because it would probably involve a black whole and a distinct lack of oxygen or light.

"Oh. I see," Ianto said promptly from the back seat, and then remained silent the rest of the drive home. I hate awkward silences like the one being displayed. Beside me, Rose still hadn't stirred. It led me again to my thoughts on how she came through the void. I thought it was impossible, well, without a TARDIS. The Doctor had filled me in on when they had accidentally ended up in the parallel world, or 'Pete's World', as they called it. He told me about the cybermen and about how Mickey stayed and broke Rose's heart. The Doctor said he was even a little sad about how Mickey decided to stay. "No one to torture," he had said. Ha.

When I did travel with the Doctor and Martha, I was always the one they both confided in. (Way to much tension between those two) The Doc would tell me about his past adventures with Rose, like the one with Cassandra, the trans-sexual bitchy trampoline, and Martha would tell me about her family, about how she felt too rushed and about how she still had to take her exams. It's a shame she probably won't live to the 34th century when exams are banned. I have to tell the Doctor to take her there someday.

We pulled up to the Millennium Center, and got out of the car. I resorted to just carrying Rose bridal style. I noticed she was disturbingly light. We took the invisible lift down to the hub, and I felt disappointed that Rose wasn't conscious to witness it.

XX

"Bloody hell, this thing can bite!" Gwen gasped as I continued to wrap the gauze around her wounded wrist. We had managed to shoot down the Hoix-Thingy, but not without it managing to sink its teeth into Gwen's wrist first. The teeth marks were deep, and her complaints were annoying. If she doesn't shut up soon I'm gonna tell her to forget it, and make her deal with the bite. "Oh god!" She gasped as I accidentally wrapped it too tight.

"Sorry," I muttered, trying my best to sound sincere, but apparently failing. Gwen made a face,

"Just hurry up, yeah? I told Rhys I'd try to be home early tonight," Of course she did. I finished it up with a long strip of medical tape and she breathed out loudly.

We loaded up into the car, me in the driver's seat, beside me. The drive back to the hub was a long one filled with silence.

"What the hell?" I asked once we got to the hub. Jack and Ianto were carrying a blonde girl to the med bay, with no difficulty, it seemed. Gwen rushed past me to get an icepack for her wound, not even pausing to acknowledge our boss and tea boy. Tosh was nowhere in sight.

"Owen!" Jack called once he noticed me, "Med Bay, now!"

I rolled my eyes at how demanding her was, but followed them anyway. I would like to keep my job.

When we got there, Jack laid her down on the bed with a tenderness I've never seen him acquire before. It was then I realized how beautiful the girl was. The thing that struck me odd was how pale her perfect skin was, and the dark circles under her closed eyes. She was unnaturally skinny, too. Jack gazed at her with sympathy and sorrow, his thumb tracing her face lightly. I noticed Ianto leaving the room awkwardly, but turned back to my boss. It was a bit peculiar, all this gentleness.

"Jack?" I asked, although my eyes never left the girl's angelic face.

He nodded to her, finally looking up at me, "You're a doctor. Fix her," It looked like there was something else he wanted to add, but he didn't.

"Alright," The way he was talking, I didn't even want to question him. I took a step towards her, only too aware of his eyes watching my every move. I reached out to her ivory wrist to check a pulse, but then Ianto burst into the room,

"Jack? The Prime Minister's on the phone."

He cursed, "Can you tell her to call back?"

I blinked in surprise, and then turned back to the girl who was more important then the Prime Minister.

Ianto scowled. Someone was a little testy today. "'Yes, Prime Minister? Jack can't talk right now. He's too busy watching E.R..'"

Jack rolled his eyes, and glanced longingly down at the bed, "Fine, I'll be right there," He turned back to me, "Owen, she may wake up, and she's traveled through the rift. You know what that does to people. Be gentle. Do your best with her, that's an order."

"Yes Sir!" I answered sarcastically. He gave me a stern look and then vanished out the door.

This girl was obviously of great importance, and I was almost afraid to start on her. But order's from the Captain himself told me that was not an option. So I went back to where I started and grabbed her ashen wrist, but immediately retracted. Her skin was stone cold. A shiver passed down my spine when I realized what this meant.

Jack touched her, he must know. He must be in denial, and I didn't want to be the one to tell him that she was dead.

I knew it was useless, but a glance up at her face made me want to take care of her. The memory of the tenderness Jack held for her flashed through my mind, and I grasped the fact that Jack must love this girl. It made me all the more sympathetic, and I thought of Katie. Of course I had wanted her to be stitched up before she had been buried, but the other doctors said it was pointless. I had wanted to do it myself, but I wasn't a surgeon. And it made me as mad as hell.

Through examination I saw that she had a dislocated shoulder, two broken ribs, a non-beating heart, no fluids in her body, a broken arm and air-less lungs. I sighed, knowing there was only one thing I could do.

Her eyes flickered, I noticed, but didn't open. I shivered again, telling myself I was imagining things. I gripped her non-broken arm, positioned it, and pushed. I was actually thankful that I wouldn't have to hear the usual scream I got when I located shoulders. Well, I thought I wouldn't.

A cry of pain echoed through the room and I jumped back immediately. The girl shot up, a look of panic clear on her face. My eyes widened. She had just been dead thirty seconds ago! She gasped, and closed her eyes tightly.

"Only an illusion," She muttered depressingly. A broken look crossed her face as she laid back down again. 'Be gentle.' Jack had said, 'She's traveled through the rift.' He had said, and I wondered if he knew this was an effect from the rift. Or maybe she was like Jack? Either way, she was breathing now, and I had to take care of her or my job would probably be gone.

I stepped closer, and she flinched at the sound. My hand grasped her stone cold one. She pulled it away instantly, her panicked look changing to fearful. This girl was terrified, and I knew it must've been the rift travel. She was obviously not used to this kind of travel.

"Hey," I whispered gently, not sure if she'd heard me or not, "It's okay. You're safe. I know the rift… it can be scarring. But you're safe now, Jack's here and -"

"Jack?" She asked, her eyes opening. Her voice was musical and enchanting, and her eyes were golden. "Jack H-Harkness?"

I smiled, happy that she had settled down, "Yeah, do you know him?"

She studied me for a minute, "I can trust you," It was a statement, not a question.

"Uh-huh."

"This isn't a hallucination?"

"No."

"Where am I?"

I grinned, "Torchwood."

"T-Torchwood?" Her eyebrows were drawn together in confusion.

I was about to answer when she gave me a look telling me to be silent. Then it was my turn to be confused.

"Rose?" Jack poked his head in, grinning fully, "Rosie!" He exclaimed happily and rushed over to her.

"Jack?" Rose, I think her name was, questioned. Jack took her hand,

"Yep, it's me honey." She looked down at their joined hands,

"How are you here?"

How is he here? 'How can he stay here?' Is a better question. I don't think that man ever leaves this place.

"Jack?" I asked, and was ignored.

"It's a long story," Jack answered her, and then helped her sit up. I had a feeling that I was being forgotten. His finger trailed up to her neck, tracing a scar I'd noticed when examining her. She flinched.

"Who did this?" My boss asked her gently. She shuddered,

"I don't know."

Jack looked at me pointedly, seeming to have only remembered I was there.

"Umm, can you walk? We should go talk in my office."

"You have an office?" Rose asked with a hint of amusement in her tone. Jack started to help her to her feet, but she pulled away in protest.

"Jack, she has to stay here. Broken ribs and arm," I told him in explanation.

He frowned and looked at her, concerned, but nodded and let go of her hand.

"Can you leave?" Jack turned to me. It sounded much more like an order than an actual question. I felt the urge to protest, wasn't I the medic? Rose was my patient, and this is my workspace! "Leave." Jack demanded again.

I rolled my eyes and turned to walk out of the med bay.

"Thanks." Rose called after me and I had to smile.

**Author's Note II: This is NOT going to be an Owen/Rose, I just wanted there to be a close friendship between the two.**


	4. Chapter Three

**Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who, Torchwood, or Twilight. And I'm glad. Way too much pressure xP**

**A/N: Sorry it took so long! And this chapter isn't even that long either. My inspiration has vanished, but it will be back by next chapter. I'll make sure. And, next chapter will have Bella Swan in it. And it won't take so long. Yay! **

* * *

I blinked, frowning in confusion at the empty feeling I was experiencing. I couldn't name the familiar sensation, but it was right at the front of my mind. And I felt strangely hollow…like there was nothing inside of me. And yet, I felt so many emotions, but none with a relatively content undertone. Why was I feeling like this? Jack, the Good Captain himself, was standing right in front of me…but I couldn't remember how. Was that why I was feeling like this? Because I wasn't aware of the truth? I shook my head, telling myself I was being ridiculous.

"So."

I looked up, "So."

"What happened?" Jack asked me. He hadn't changed much. Except for that military coat…had he always worn that? I distinctly remember tight leather pants. What had happened to those? They would do him much more justice. I smiled faintly at the memory, _much_ more justice. And his scent was…_his scent_? Was I insane? Since when had I thought about _his scent_? I had never thought anything close to that! But he had a good scent…

"Rose?"

"Hmm?"

"What happened?" He repeated calmly, like he was talking to an ignorant child with a miraculously short attention span.

Couldn't I ask him the same thing? He was dead. I heard him die. Was I dead? That made sense. The last thing I remembered was… a light? Yeah, a bright, white light. Weren't you supposed to see light before you die? That was the most plausible thing I've heard all day. That's why he was here, that's why I couldn't remember anything. I heard once that you forget about your death after you die, it's supposed to be torture or along that line. But I had never believed that, Mum and I were atheist. Oh god, was I in Hell? No, there would be no Jack if I were in Hell. And if I was in Hell, where was my science teacher?

"Honey, if you're not going to pay attention…"

"I'm sorry, Jack," I apologized. I liked saying his name; it rolled off my tongue. "What was your question?"

"What happened?" Jack sighed.

"Whaddya mean, what happened?"

"I mean, 'What happened?'" He was getting impatient.

"How am I supposed to remember? Aren't I dead?"

Jack frowned at me, "I don't think so, but I may be wrong."

He didn't _think_ so. Does that mean he's not sure? He's not sure if we're alive or dead? I voiced my thoughts, and he frowned at me again.

"Rosie, I was being sarcastic. Of course you're not dead. Neither am I." There was a subtle longing in his voice that disturbed me more than a little.

I tried my best to grasp what he was saying, but found it increasingly difficult. If we were alive, then how the hell was he here? We're alive, all right, but how was he here?

"You _are_ alive?" -He nodded- "Jack…. you're supposed to be…dead," My voice cracked; like it wasn't used to being used this much. Why was that happening?

"_Supposed_ to be. Honey, I'm with Torchwood. We don't have to follow the rules."

"Torchwood?" I recognized that word. It was… wasn't that the name of the Doctor's ship? I could remember the Doctor talking about Torchwood a lot, and he talked about his ship a lot. Yes, of course his ship was called Torchwood. How could I have forgotten?

"Yeah, it's where I work," Jack smiled at me, probably relieved we weren't talking about death anymore, and sat down on the medic bed opposite of the one I was occupying. He reached over and grabbed my hand. Had his hand always been so warm? It…it felt good against my skin. Like sitting in front of a fire after trudging through snow.

"Where you work?" I asked in confusion. I remembered him helping the Doctor with Torchwood's repairs, but was the Doctor paying him now? Did he always pay him? Then a new thought entered my mind, is the Doctor here?

"Uh-huh," Jack answered before I could voice my thought, "Listen, Rosie, I know you and the Doctor have sort of a bad history with Torchwood," I had a bad history with Torchwood? But hadn't I lived there for years? Maybe something horrible had happened while I was at Torchwood,

"But I'm changing it," He continued, "It's not anything like it was before. Well, it sort of is. Our goals are somewhat similar; protect humanity from aliens and everything in between. And besides, that was Torchwood 1. This is Torchwood 3."

I was beyond confusion now.

"Torchwood 1? What, did the Doctor get more Torchwoods? Is there more Time Lords?" I asked.

"Nooo, Doc's still the last. Hmm," Jack thought for a second, "Maybe we should call him. But first, _tell me what happened_." He was definitely angry, now, and I was afraid to do anything but tell him.

I searched my mind, but it wasn't easy. The past conversation had left a fog over my mentality, and it was increasingly difficult. That wasn't a good sign, finding it hard to search one's own mind. Maybe I was insane, or at least on the brink. I wanted nothing more than to sit Jack down and ask him an unlimited amount of questions to clear the cloud, but both common sense and the look of demanding on Jack's face told me that wasn't going to happen, so I tried my best. I worked my way around, and with sudden horrification, I realized that I was failure to Jack's questions. I didn't remember a thing since…

"I don't know," I said quietly, barely even audible. For a second I thought I might have to repeat myself, until Jack frowned.

"You…don't know? As in, you don't remember?"

I shook my head no

He took a sharp inhale of breath, "Well, you must remember some things, right? You remember me and the Doctor, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Alright, so tell me what the last thing you remember is. We'll work our way from there."

I nodded, "I remember…a bright white light. There was screaming, and…and wind. Lots of wind," I frowned, " And the Doctor…the Doctor was there. There were things flying around…pepper pots?"

"What year is it, Rosie?"

"2006." I said surely.

"Rose, it was 2006 four years ago."


End file.
